Down Home
by southernbelle4
Summary: Our little boy is growing up. He’s fallen for his first Republican." An intra-episode-AU piece (Debate Camp)
1. Hatching The Plan

_**Down Home**_

PG (right now)

I haven't posted anything in a while, and for that I apologize.

This is a cute little piece that I came up with after watching a rerun of Debate Camp a few weeks ago. There will be at least two parts, but I'm only submitting the first part now (mainly because I'm a little stumped on the ending) but I will have it posted eventually.

I own nothing…please don't sue (This means you NBC, JWP, and Aaron Sorkin!)

I love to hear what you think. Reviews please!

* * *

"He will ask about school uniforms, Josh."

"We have an answer already."

"I want it on paper. Sam!"

"Hold on a second, CJ."

Sam was searching his notes as Josh and CJ were arguing about the debate questions. Unable to locate the information he needed, he turned to face the Press Secretary.

"What do you need?"

"You're Ritchie."

"Huh?"

"You need to be the opposition."

"Why do I always have to be the Republican?"

"Because I say so."

Toby rolled his eyes pointedly at his deputy.

"When, oh when did we revert to grade school antics? Sam, you are the most articulate, have the most stage presence, and none of us flirt shamelessly with Republicans regularly on White House premises."

"Hey!"

"Sam, please."

"Fine. I'll be Ritchie."

"We need to go through and figure out what his answers will be to every question."

"We can't even figure out what our answers are."

"Well, Ritchie is predictable."

Half an hour later, they were still in CJ's office and were stuck on the opposition responses.

"Hey guys, the plane leaves in forty minutes."

Toby glanced at his watch.

"Yeah, let's stop for now, we'll talk on the plane and figure this out."

They all trooped out, CJ calling after Sam.

"Yeah?"

"You have got to have these answers down, Sam."

"I know."

"We need help."

"I know."

"Talk to Ainsley."

"No."

"Sam!"

"She's visiting her parents this week."

"And her parents live where?"

Sam sighed deeply, knowing CJ was right, and he certainly wouldn't complain about seeing their resident conservative, but he also knew that this election was a gray area for her. He didn't want to push her into anything she didn't want to do. But he didn't have much choice.

"I'll call her."

"Thank you."

* * *

"So then the tortoise turns around and says, 'see you at the finish line, bunny boy.'"

Ainsley laughed at her four-year-old niece's story, incoherent as it was. She was sitting on the porch swing watching Annie's reenactment of the classic children's tale, simply enjoying the warmth of the southern sun on her face. It was good to be home but she missed some things about DC.

"Aunt Ainsley!" She heard her eleven-year-old nephew before he appeared at the screen door, out of breath.

"What is it, Pete?"

"Your cell." He held out the bleating phone. She quickly grabbed it.

"Ainsley Hayes."

"I didn't think you were going to answer."

"Hey, Sam. Sorry it was in the house. My nephew had to run it out to me."

"No problem."

"So…what's up?"

"I need your help."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"Hey Dad!" she yelled away from the phone. Her father was not within earshot.

"Oh, stop it!"

"Sorry, couldn't resist. What do you need?"

"You were gone earlier in the week, but we're doing a two day debate rehearsal. CJ needs--"

"An opposition?"

"We're having some trouble with Ritchie's arguments."

"They're over your heads."

"Very funny. Look I know this election puts you in an awkward position, but we need your help. If you don't want to do it, that's fine, but--"

"Awkward position? My job is to help the President. Who I vote for in November isn't anyone's business but mine. The two aren't related."

"Well technically, you won't have a job if the President looses."

"Who says I haven't been approached by the Ritchie camp to stay on if they win?"

"What?!?!"

"What do you need me to do?" she changed the subject.

"But—"

"Answer my question Sam."

"We're going to be at the Saybrook Institute in--"

"I know exactly where it is. It's only about an hour and a half from here."

"Okay, we'll be landing in about forty-five minutes, and it will take us a while to get settled in. The President will get in tomorrow morning. Can you be over in about three hours? I'll have to notify the Secret Service and get you a room."

"Yeah, I was supposed to leave tonight to go back to DC anyway. I'm assuming that this means I don't have to be back in the office until y'all get back?"

"I'll let Babish know."

"All right. I'll see you in three hours, then."

"Bye, Ainsley. And thank you."

"You're welcome."

Ainsley folded her cell, and pushed herself off the swing to go gather her things.

* * *

The outdoor patio area was filled with White House staffers both eating and discussing the President's debate answers…except Sam. Not really hungry, he'd chosen to forego dinner and work on the opposition answers, which were not as cut and dry as he had hoped. Sitting on the porch of one of the buildings, he hoped some of the Southern conservatism the opponent focused on so much would rub off on him. Anyway, he knew help was on the way.

It was that help that made him a bit nervous. Ainsley had seemed okay with the idea of helping the President in the debate when they had spoken on the phone, but he wondered if she was just putting on a front. He had this strange tendency of wanting to protect her, and he wasn't sure why.

Whatever Ainsley's motivation, it was clear CJ had been right. He needed help.

A car door pulled him out of his thoughts. He saw only the top of a blonde head above the sporty two-door. He chuckled to himself as he rose from his seat on the porch swing and walked in her direction. When she emerged from behind the car, she saw him immediately.

"Hey!" she called out to him with a smile.

He thought she looked more relaxed than he had ever seen her. In a moss green tank top under a lightweight printed button down with blue jeans and flip-flops, long thick hair in natural waves down her back, she looked every bit the part of the modern Southern belle. She seemed very comfortable in these surroundings.

"Hey," he replied. "You had a safe trip?"

"Yep. It was a nice day for a drive, and I took back roads rather than interstate."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

She winked at him coquettishly and handed him her bag she had just removed from her trunk.

They walked toward the cabin he had secured for her in a pleasant silence, until she asked the inevitable.

"Is there any food on the premises, Sam?

"There may be some pizza left. Let's drop your stuff off, then we can go and see."

"Sounds good. You know, I don't understand y'all."

"About what?"

"Y'all are here in the South, but you order pizza. You're missing some of the best barbeque and fried chicken you'll ever get the chance to taste."

"Barbeque is tomorrow night. The President made us promise to wait for him."

Ainsley nervously looked at him with a sideways glance.

"When…when is the President getting in exactly?"

"Trying to think of a good hiding spot?"

"Oh, these woods are full of good places in which to hide from the Leader of Free World. When we were kids, my sister and I always hid from my big brother in the woods at the back of our property. So you see, I'm well versed in hiding in the woods."

"Secret Service might frown on that."

"Then I'm not leaving my cabin."

"Oh no, you've got to help me learn to speak Republican, remember?"

"Those are words I always knew I'd hear you say to me," she said in her sweetest Carolina drawl, as they ascended the steps to her cabin. "Be still my heart."

They faced one another.

"I hope you enjoyed it, you'll never hear it come out of my mouth again."

He opened the door, but neither went inside.

"We'll see about that, Mr. Seaborn."

"It'll happen when you name your children Kennedy and Carter."

They both cracked up at that moment, and he handed her bag to her, which she, in turn, tossed inside the cabin and shut the door again.

"Lead me to the pizza, kind sir."

"Follow me."

* * *

"Hey, who let her in here?!?!"

"Good to see you, too, Josh."

"What Josh is trying to say is thank you for coming. Aren't you, Josh?"

"Yes, Mother CJ. Besides Ainsley can take a joke, right Ainsley?"

"I do work for you people, don't I?"

Everyone in the different groups around heard the conversation and laughed along with all involved. Sam remembered that Ainsley was hungry and, he admitted to himself, so was he.

"Any pizza left?"

"There's about four pieces of anchovy left, I think," Ed supplied.

Ainsley's eyes lit up, as Sam turned an interesting shade of green. She made her way over to the table housing the fifteen or so empty and greasy square boxes. She quickly found the leftover anchovy and managed to happen upon a single piece of pepperoni and bell pepper, which she offered to Sam. He gratefully accepted.

They both took a seat as Josh got everyone's attention.

"All right, everybody. Since we're all here now, I just wanted to welcome you all to Debate Camp." Everyone rolled their eyes, accompanied by a few groans, at Josh. "Hey, is that any way to show respect for me, your leader?"

A balled up napkin soared through the air directly hitting the Deputy Chief of Staff on the forehead, causing everyone to crack up, even Josh himself.

"I'd bet that if the President were standing here instead of me, who ever did that would've thought twice. Anyway, I do want to express my thanks to all of you, especially Congresswoman Wyatt, and Congressmen Pennington and Cline for your extra effort and support. Also, our presence has been graced by our White House Republican. Ainsley thank you for giving up part of your vacation to help us."

She smiled politely and nodded at Josh.

"Now, let's get down to business."

* * *

"Okay, what's the next question?"

"Social profiling. The Governor will bring up Rooker."

The two were sitting on the soft rug in the sitting area that connected to the kitchenette of his cabin. Papers full of notes and graphs and articles littered the surrounding ground.

"I can't bring up Rooker."

"Sam, you can't not bring up Rooker."

"I can't."

"Why not."

"Because I was the one staff member who thought he wasn't the guy."

"Ah, and you don't want to play 'I told you so' with the President."

"Right."

"That is understandable, but isn't your job to play the part of Ritchie here?"

"He'll take it personally."

"He'll have to get over it."

"You want to tell him that?"

"No thank you, no."

"Didn't think so. Is there any other way?"

"Nope."

Sam conceded that she was right and he just had to suck it up. His head was starting to throb.

"Okay, I need a break."

"Sam, we've got like fifteen more questions to go over."

"It's only ten-thirty."

"And heaven forbid we get to sleep at a reasonable hour."

"Come on, let's take a walk. You can fill my head with more conservative mumbo jumbo after that."

He stood up, and looked down into her exasperated face. Holding out his hand to help her up, he saw a smile appear. She grasped his hand and pulled herself up. She was close and looking into his eyes.

"Thirty minutes," she said, tapping him on the chest, then backing away. Both were suddenly acutely aware that their hands were still intertwined. Both pulling back, his hand went to his pants pocket, and hers went about pushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

"So, let's go."

He held the door open for her. They silently headed outside into the warm autumn breezes.

She broke the silence with a happy sounding sigh.

"What?"

"Nothing, its just nice to be able to walk outside and not freeze. I love it down here."

"Haven't you been here for a week?"

"I never get tired of any of it. The warmth, the cricket's chirping. It's so…so tranquil. It reminds me of when I was a little girl; my dad took me, my siblings and my mom camping out on the farm."

"I thought you're from Charlotte."

"Raleigh, actually."

"Oh, my mistake. You grew up on a farm?"

"That so hard to believe?"

"I'm trying to imagine you milking cows." A crooked smile appeared on his face.

"We never actually lived there full time. We had the typical suburban life, but it was nice to have the country available to us. It's about forty-five minutes from our house, and it's been in my mother's family for the past two hundred years. It used to be a tobacco farm, and then I think my great grandfather raised Angus, but now they just do timber harvesting and also take people out quail hunting. Some of the best quail trails in the country. And to answer your question, yes I've milked a cow."

"That's something I'd pay money to see."

The path the two were on meandered up a small hill towards the main buildings of the institute, through a densely wooded area.

"Anyway we'd spend two weekends every summer camping and then one other weekend visiting Civil War Battlefields. You know there are several in this area. General Sherman made sure his presence was known in the Carolinas before he destroyed most of Georgia."

"Well there's a very Southern thing to do. You do know that you lost, right?"

She chuckled at his tone, and shrugged him off.

"Doesn't matter."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a part of our heritage."

"A heritage that endorsed the buying and selling of human life."

"A heritage willing to fight for each states right to make the choices that effect it directly. You forget that slavery was only one issue of many that caused the War. So many people forget that the main reason we were fighting was because the South was being ignored by the lawmakers in Washington. These were the same lawmakers who treated the urban impoverished in the big Northern cities worse than a vast majority of those slaves who worked the fields in the South and were—"

"Whoa, whoa. Hold it. Time out. Didn't mean to get you started."

"I apologize. Once I get on the topic…I've just heard my father recite that speech over and over, although I do believe it to be true. It's not like I think slavery was a good thing."

"I never said you did."

"I'm merely stating that the lawmakers in the North were as much to blame as Southern plantation owners were."

"I don't doubt it." He stared at her for a long moment.

"What?"

"I'm just waiting for you to break into a dead-on portrayal of Scarlett O'Hara."

She smiled smugly at him.

"Well, as God as my witness, if you don't stop staring at me like that, I might just have to kick that cute little ass of yours...again"

They both cracked up, and the tension that had crept into their conversation earlier dissipated. By that point they were at the main buildings, and found Josh, CJ and Toby sitting on the steps.

"Hey, you two. We were wondering how much longer you would be. Beer?"

"Oh, we're still not done. Sure, thanks."

"You realize the President will be here in like nine hours," CJ said as she passed him the cool beverage.

"We'll get it done."

"What he means is I'll get it done. He just sits there and argues with me. I've had to remind him over and over that just this once he has to agree with me."

"In theory only."

"Of course. Hand me a beer, please."

The five adults sat and talked for the next half hour until Toby got a call from Ginger back in DC and Ainsley and Sam headed back to his cabin to finish the opposition answers. The body language they gave off, a closeness, a flirtation, spoke volumes to the two remaining lookers-on. CJ and Josh kept their places on the top step.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That Toby isn't the only one who needs a little push in the romance department?" CJ supplied, ignoring the irony of this coming from Josh.

"Exactly."

"Josh, our little boy is growing up. He's fallen for his first Republican."

"That part, I'm trying to ignore."

"Oh, you like her. Say it—you like a Republican."

"I can tolerate that Republican, but only because she provided me with a lifetime of blackmail material. I still have the Capital Beat tape."

"You're evil."

"I know. So how do we go about this?"

"I have a plan, Joshy boy."


	2. In On The Sting

_**Down Home**_ (Part 2)

This is the second part to Down Home. All the same disclaimers from part 1 still apply. Also, the song is "Look What I Found" by Chris Cagle on Capitol Records. All credit for it goes to them.

So I realized that I mentioned in Part 1 this would be a two parter...gotcha! It will be at least three parts, as this one didn't get me where I wanted so there will be another chapter coming soon.

Love your reviews...they only make me want to write more. Keep 'em coming.

* * *

It was only after the President and Leo left the rehearsal room that Ainsley removed herself from the chair in the back corner where could see Sam, but remain unseen by Jed Bartlet. 

"You did good." She walked up to him with a smile on her face.

"He took it personally."

"You knew he would."

"But it couldn't be avoided. You were right."

"I love to hear you say that."

She smiled at him with a malicious grin and he rolled his eyes dramatically at her.

"I noticed you were sitting in the back."

"I'm attempting to avoid any potentially career damaging incidents this weekend."

"Good luck with that." Sam noticed Josh headed their way, cell phone at his ear. "What's up?"

"Senator Chambers is causing trouble."

"The welfare package?"

"Yep."

"Crap."

"Vincent Chambers?" Ainsley piped up as she recognized the name of the senator from her home state.

"You know him?"

"He was a good friend of my grandfather."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"Josh—"

"I'll talk to him."

"We're waiting to hear what the President has to say, Sam. Ainsley, we may need you on this too, seeing that you know the man and you're a member of his party. You'll need to come to the staff meeting this afternoon."

"I…I can't do that."

"We'll hide all the alcohol and bathrobes, I promise."

"That's so kind, Josh."

Her corresponding glare caused Josh to turn away quickly and walk over to CJ.

The Press Secretary glanced toward Sam and Ainsley, and when she was satisfied that they were no longer watching Josh, she slyly nodded to him.

He leaned slightly and whispered in her ear, "Phase one, successful."

CJ smiled and they went their separate ways.

* * *

The President's makeshift office was filled with his senior staff and a certain Deputy White House Counselor, who stood fidgeting off to the side. This did not go unnoticed by the President as he entered. 

"All right get this over with."

Jed Bartlet caught Josh and CJ's stare and knew that the plan was underway. He had spoken to CJ on his way down, and she had filled him in on the sting. He also knew about "Team Toby" but didn't care that much. Toby and Andy were perfectly capable of figuring out their own lives. It was none of his business. But Sam and Ainsley were a different ballgame.

He knew that they were both brilliant at their jobs, but were clueless when it came to their personal lives. So when CJ suggested that they needed his help, he was quick to get in on the action. The way he figured it could go one of two ways: Sam and Ainsley wind up together for a very long time, or their administration could wind up pissing off yet another Republican. He hoped it would not be the latter. Those two were right for each other.

All it had taken was a few phone calls and the plot had been arranged.

"So how do we take care of this? I thought Chambers was a done deal," the President continued.

"Well, Mr. President," Josh spoke up, "he has some addendums he wants to put in front of committee, most of which are way out of left field."

"Ainsley!"

The blonde in the back of the room suddenly stood very still and looked at a place on the wall as behind the man who had called her name.

"Yes, Mr. President."

"I've been made aware that you have a personal relationship with the senator. What is his deal?"

"I…I can honestly tell you, Mr. President, that I do not understand why Senator Chambers is giving the administration grief. He has always been very moderate on welfare reform. It really doesn't make any sense."

"Do you think he'll move?"

"Given that I am unsure of his demands, I can't say. But he is a reasonable man, and probably could be convinced to compromise under the right circumstances."

The President was well aware of the fact that she was suddenly in business mode, and sounded very sure of herself. She was, at that moment, the antithesis of the woman he met in the steam pipe trunk distribution venue.

"Can you convince him?"

"Sir… I…"

"Mr. President, Ainsley shouldn't be put in that position. We all know that she disagrees with the administration on this issue. I don't think its fair to put her in opposition to her own party, just for our gain."

It was silent in the room, but the looks between Sam and Ainsley and CJ, Josh, and the President were speaking volumes.

Finally Jed Bartlet took back control of his office.

"Sam, you'll go to meet with the senator. He's at his in-law's home in Beaufort on the coast. Ainsley, do you mind going with him, just to make sure that he doesn't severe our ties with the Republican party permanently?"

"That would be fine, Sir. I'll just have to talk to Mr. Babish…"

"Bah, I'll take care of Oliver. If he has a problem with it, I'll show him my Nobel Prize. Josh, have Donna make them hotel reservations in Beaufort. You can all go now."

Sam and Ainsley were the first out of the room, and the President winked at his Deputy Chief of Staff and his Press Secretary. This was working out better than they had hoped.

* * *

Deciding that it would be more sensible to drive the five hours, Sam and Ainsley took off in her black sports car the next day an hour before Air Force One was to leave. As they pulled away from Saybrook, CJ and Josh stood watching. 

"We did a good thing, Joshua."

"Even if she is a Republican."

* * *

"You do know where you're going right?" 

"Yes."

"Because if you don't I can drive."

"You're not driving, Sam, for a number of reasons. Not the least of which is that I've been warned never to let you behind the wheel of car when you don't know exactly where you are going. Also, its daytime, so you can't go follow the stars. Finally, I just bought this car, and I'm not taking any chances."

"I'm a good driver."

"I don't care."

"But…Hey! How did you find out about the…"

"Donna."

"Josh needs to wire her mouth shut."

"That's not nice, Sam. It was a cute story. Besides, I happen to know exactly where I'm going. My cousin lived in Morehead City for a while. It's right near Beaufort."

"Oh."

Sam glanced over to the drivers seat and smiled. Despite their differences, he did enjoy spending time with Ainsley. Her self-righteous conservatism drove him crazy, but not as crazy as her million-dollar smile and that honeysuckle sweet drawl. But right now he had to push that thought from his mind. He focused on the ballad playing on the country station, the only station they could pick up in the middle of nowhere.

___There's a lot of lonely people out there waiting _

_There's a lot of lonely people searching too _

_But if you've got too many expectations _

_You might miss the one whose right in front of you _

_No telling when _

_Not telling why_

_She'll say hello and you'll know you'll never say goodbye._

Nope, that was a bad idea, too.

"So…you did a very nice job acting like a Republican against the President."

Ainsley's statement pulled him from his thoughts.

"I had a good teacher."

"You should have done it with a Ritchie accent, though."

"Who do you think I am, an actor?"

"You look like you could be," she muttered at a level he couldn't hear. She was still in denial about the attraction she had to Sam. She raised her voice to where he could hear. "I'm just saying that it would've been cute."

"I don't think 'cute' is what the President has in mind for his debate opponent."

"Sorry. I thought you liked the accent." She immediately regretted saying it.

"What do you mean by that."

"Nothing. Nothing at all. See that road right there? That is the road you would take to go to my dad's favorite battlefield."

"Interesting. So what did you mean?"

She glared at him and turned the radio up louder. He responded by turning it back down but not wanting the awkwardness to continue, he changed the subject.

"I have a question for you."

"Okay."

"You said the other day that you'd been approached by the Ritchie campaign. What did they offer you?"

Ainsley sighed at the sudden turn in the conversation.

"Top deputy. I'd be right under Cavanaugh."

"Wow. That'd be a step up."

"Yeah."

A strangled silence fell between them, as neither was willing to talk more on this touchy subject. Sam turned the radio back up, and Ainsley concentrated on the road ahead of her.

* * *

Realizing that the car had come to a stop, Sam opened his eyes to see Ainsley staring at him. 

"Hey, sleeping beauty."

The uncomfortable feeling that covered their conversations earlier had disappeared, and the playfulness had returned to her voice.

"Don't ever call me that. Where are we?"

"About a half hour from the coast. I had to stop for some food."

Sam looked up to see the Golden Arches on the door of the building in front of them.

"I'm surprised you lasted this long."

"Get out of the car. I'm starving. You're going to buy me a Big Mac."

"I think I might can handle that."

"Thank you."

Over hamburgers and fries, they discussed Senator Chambers's views on welfare, which turned into an all out debate, which almost lead to her walking out and leaving him in a random McDonalds in a three-stoplight town in the middle of North Carolina.

Fortunately he was able to calm her with the promise of a large milkshake before they left. It was an easy sell.

As he waited for Ainsley to return from her trip to the ladies room, Sam called Josh's office to find out where they had room reserved for the night.

"Hey, Donna."

"Hey, Sam."

"They said you were going to make reservations for us at a hotel…"

"Yeah…about that. Couldn't get a hotel. Apparently there is some kind of marine-biology-expo-something-or-other this weekend. All the hotels are full." Knowing he was about to either yell at her or whine like a child, she quickly continued. "But I took care of it."

"Donna…"

"I did. There is a bed and breakfast called the Sailboat Inn, and I got you a room…"

"Donna! Ainsley and I can't share a room. What if a reporter sees?"

"It's a suite. There are two bedrooms. As far as the press goes, which newspaper is going to send a reporter to the Sailboat Inn on the off chance that two White House staffers are going to show up?"

"I don't know, but…"

"Look it was the best I could do, unless you feel up to pissing off a large, and I would venture to say close-knit, group of marine biologists. They're expecting you soon."

"Okay…fine, we'll make do. Thanks, Donna. Tell Josh I'll talk to him soon."

They both hung up. In Washington, Donna received a smile from both Josh and CJ, who had come back to the office after Air Force One landed, just to ensure that the plan continued on its current course.

"You are wonderful Deputy Deputy Moss. Ever thought of going into acting?"

"Quit sucking up, Joshua. You're just lucky my college roommate's great uncle owns that Inn."

"He did promise no press, right?"

"He said it's very isolated. There should be no problems, CJ."

"Wonderful. Boy are we good."

* * *

"Okay, it should be right up here." 

"I know, Sam. Oh, look, it's beautiful! Donna did well."

Sam and Ainsley parked in front of the Victorian mansion and exited the car, hearing the sound of waves crashing from the other side of the building. The ocean breeze had added a slight chill to the air. Ainsley pulled her pale blue cardigan tighter around her. Sam grabbed their bags from the trunk and they walked up the wide staircase to the open porch.

They pushed open the large wooden door and a bell jingled, announcing their entrance. A gray-haired man with a placate look on his face appeared from a room off to the right.

"Ah, you youngsters must be Miss Hayes and Mr. Seaborn. I'm Elias Conrad. You can call me Eli. I've got your keys right here. Your office already gave me all your information, so I'll take you right on up."

"This is a beautiful place, Eli."

"Thank you Miss Hayes. You're William Hayes' grandbaby aren't you?"

The strong, aged, southern accent, even stronger that Ainsley's, reverberated against the walls, as he took one of the bags from Sam and led them up a polished walnut circular staircase.

"One of them."

"He was a good politician. Voted for him twice. Never got the pleasure of meeting him, so it's an honor to meet you."

"Thank you. That's very kind."

Sam was captivated by the ease Ainsley had while talking to Eli. It was like they were kindred spirits. Or maybe it was just common southern hospitality that he wasn't used to, although he felt he could get very much used to it.

The exchange continued until they got to a room at the end of the hallway. Eli put the antique brass key into the lock and opened the door, holding it open for his guests.

Before he left he turned back to address the two White House Staffers.

"Breakfast starts at seven, and I know you have a meeting tomorrow. Will you check out as you leave for your meeting?"

"Yes," Sam replied. "Thank you for everything."

The door shut behind the old man, and Sam and Ainsley looked around the room…suite.

"Well, this is nice."

That was a bit of an understatement. They found themselves in the middle of a round sitting room with a large bay window looking out into the quickly darkening water of the Atlantic. Decorated true to the Victorian Era, the walls were a cream and gold damask paper, accented with cream crown molding. The draperies were rich gold tone fabric, and the hearty furniture was a dark cherry with rose and cobalt upholstery.

Off to either side of the sitting area was a bedroom. Both had the same wallpaper as the common room, but one had more feminine floral bedding while the other lent itself more easily to the masculine eye.

After surveying each room, Sam and Ainsley decided to pick the rooms along gender lines. Each went their separate ways to get settled in.

As Ainsley slipped into her room, Sam's phone rang. He tossed his bag into his room, and grabbed his phone from the coffee table he had put it on a few minutes earlier. He sat on the plush sofa as he answered.

"Sam Seaborn."

"Hey," Josh's voice came from the other end. He had waited until they had gotten the phone call from Eli telling them that Sam and Ainsley were settled in. Only then did he call them with the news.

"What's up?"

"I got a call from the Senator's office. He has to cancel the meeting. Some kind of miscommunication with scheduling."

"What!"

"Sorry Sam. It happens. It's a tactical thing, I think. He was making a point."

"What about the bill?"

"I've got a meeting here in DC with Senator Blanks. I think I can get him to budge, so even if we have trouble with Chambers, we're still okay."

"We couldn't have thought of that earlier?"

"We didn't think it was an option. He came to us."

"So, I'm here at a Bed and Breakfast in North Carolina for no reason?"

"Well, you aren't alone, Sam. Anyway, the President said that he'd give you each time off. It's seven at night, and you've both been up for nearly fourteen hours and working the entire time, so he told me to tell you to relax. Take it as an apology for making you take an unnecessary road trip with a Republican. Not that it seemed to bother you earlier, but…"

"Josh."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying…"

"I know exactly what you are saying."

Sam knew that he was turning a nice shade of pink, so he was glad Ainsley was still in her room.

"Just don't waste this trip, Sam. That's all I'm saying. See you when you get back."

"Yeah."

He hung up the phone as Ainsley exited her room in a long-sleeved and well-worn gray Smith t-shirt and old blue jeans. She perched herself on the arm on the opposite end of the sofa from where Sam was sitting.

"Who was on the phone?"

"Uh, that was Josh. There is no meeting."

"What!?!?"

"Apparently it was a tactical thing to get our attention."

"So we're leaving?" Sam thought he saw a hint of disappointment on her face.

"No...no. The President wanted us to stay, since its already late and we've been working so hard. We'd have to drive all night, and neither of us are up to that right now. We're here. We might as well stick around. With the election coming up, there is no way of knowing when the next time either of us will get a good night sleep."

"Fair point. I just don't understand the Senator."

"Well, he's a Republican, so who can understand anything he does."

She responded by throwing a velvet pillow directly at his head. They both erupted into laughter as he returned the fire. She found herself falling into the seat of the sofa from the giggles. Her legs still hung over the arm, and she was laying on her back, looking up at the man on the other end.

"Sam, I'm hungry."

"What? We left McDonald's an hour ago."

"So. We might as well have a taste of the local flavor since we're stuck here. Please?"

She had this look on her face that he found completely unnerving. He had no choice but to nod and head to his room to change into a Duke t-shirt, navy pullover and jeans.

When he returned she had pulled on a red windbreaker and let her hair fall down her back, out of the clip it had been in most of the day. They headed out into the night towards what, they didn't know.

TBC...


	3. The Ice Cream Lady Takes Over

**_Down Home _**(part 3)

Same disclaimers as last parts, plus a disclaimer about the location of this part. I have never been to Beaufort, personally, but in my research, it seems to perfectly fit the atmosphere that I am trying to accomplish here. I am taking artistic license in this chapter, so if anyone has been there and disputes my descriptions, I apologize. It just seems to be a beautiful place, and it fits perfectly into my story. Also, the Sailboat Inn? Completely fictional. I made it up.

Also, I'm not loving this chapter...It is like one long conversation, and not as much humor as I would have liked. I guess I'm a bit discouraged with how this turned out, but I do think there will be another chapter…I just have to chase my muse and nail her down to the floor so that she doesn't escape again. Some good reviews might help me find her…

* * *

The night air was hazy and silent as Sam and Ainsley headed down the street to the historical downtown area of the small southern beach town. They had past the strip of shops and restaurants on their way to the Sailboat.

"This is a nice place."

Ainsley agreed. "It's beautiful. Very peaceful. Kind of reminds me of a simpler time, you know. Away from the politics of everyday life."

"It's good to get away from politics, sometimes."

She looked at him with a sideways glance and scoffed.

"This from the workaholic?"

"I am not a workaholic, young lady. And even I were, you'd be right up on that list, too. I know how many times you stayed just as late as the senior staff. Well after Babish has left."

"You check up on me?"

"Well mostly I just need you to take some of the work off my desk. I don't want to get stuck arguing with you about it, so I wait until after you leave, then I put it in your box."

The streetlights emphasized her features as he caught her rolling her eyes in understanding.

"So that's why I always have so much stuff when I come in some mornings."

"Sorry about that. It's all legal stuff, so it's not like you can't do it."

"Aren't you a lawyer?"

"Yeah, but Josh and CJ and Toby seem to think I can handle all the legal stuff that comes up in the Senior Staff meetings."

"You can't?"

"You know what I mean. I'm a speechwriter right now. Not a lawyer."

"You're the Deputy Communications Director, Sam. Don't downplay your position."

"I just…I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

He was silent for a long moment. Ainsley pushed for more.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. What do you want to eat?"

Knowing that this topic would come back up, she accepted his change of subject. Plus her stomach was growling furiously.

"I want some ice cream. Do you think that little ice cream shop we saw when we came in will still be open?"

"I didn't see it."

"I did."

"Surprise, surprise."

"Shut up."

She attempted to punch him softly in the shoulder, but he was quick enough to grab her wrist before she had the chance. They stopped walking for a moment, not able to break the eye contact that had been made. For the second time in a single weekend, their physical contact had lead them both to an awkward moment that neither were prepared to deal with.

"Ice…cream?" Ainsley finally said in an unsure voice, as she nodded toward the building that lay just ahead of them.

Sam smiled, and turned to continue to walk, but his grip had fallen from her wrist to her hand. They tried to act normal, but the tension that had risen in the past moments was not fleeting. It hung over them like a cloud. Ainsley felt a bit like a schoolgirl and Sam was the star quarterback all the girls had a crush on.

Upon entering the little shop with the wooden sign saying "Ye Olde Ice Cream" hanging outside, they separated, but Ainsley and Sam knew this wasn't over. They were greeted by a short, round, brunette woman, a little older than they were, standing behind the counter of the old-fashioned looking room.

"Hi, y'all come on in. I'm Valerie."

"You're still opened?"

"For the next six and a half minutes. What can I do for you? We've got the best chocolate pecan ice cream either side of the Mississippi. I make it myself." The jolly woman's voice was nearly shrieking.

Ainsley nearly began drooling at the idea of chocolate pecan, but managed to contain herself.

"Oh, I want that."

"Bowl or cone?"

"Cone."

"Two scoops or one?"

"Two."

"Alright, this girl's got an appetite. I like it. What about you, sonny?" the woman asked Sam.

"I'll have the same. But only one scoop for me."

"Awe, you're gonna let your woman out eat you?"

Ainsley tried, unsuccessfully, not to laugh at Sam, but then realized the implications of what she had said.

"Oh, we're not…"

"Not what? Together. Tish-tosh. I saw the way you two were looking at each other the second you two walked in here."

Ainsley secretly wondered what Valerie had seen.

She went about making the cones, but continued to talk.

"Nope, no denying it. So what are you folks doing here?"

"We had a…a business meeting tomorrow, but it was cancelled. So we're out taking in the sights."

Again, Sam was taken by Ainsley's ability to relate to the locals.

"Where are you from? You sound like you would know your way around this neck of the woods."

"I was born and raised in Raleigh. I live in Washington DC now."

"What do you do there?"

Sam and Ainsley shared a look they both clearly read.

"We're lawyers."

"Oh…well that's nice. How long are you here in Beaufort?"

"We'll be leaving tomorrow morning."

"I see." She handed each of them an ice cream cone, and Sam paid.

"It was nice to meet y'all. Stop in anytime."

"Thank you very much. Have a good night, Valerie." Ainsley smiled over her shoulder, politely.

The older woman locked the door behind them, and they walked across the quiet street to a deck that overlooked the flat harbor.

"She was very nice."

"Yeah." Ainsley had suddenly become strangely silent, trying to sort out what Valerie was talking about. What did she see between them?

Sam was surprised at the one word answer.

"Okay, what's going on?"

Waiting until she had swallowed her bite of ice cream, she leaned against the wooden rail and looked him in the eye with confidence.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sam. Why don't you tell me what's going on with you and the rest of the senior staff?"

He sighed, breaking the eye contact by looking down at his feet.

"It's not the same."

"What?"

"As it used to be. We used to…I don't know. It's not clicking anymore. I feel like I'm getting pushed under the rug. Josh, Toby and CJ, they're all happy where they are. I'm starting to think I want more. But I'm not in a position to move ahead."

"You mean you want to run."

His head shot up at her in surprise.

"Don't look so surprised. Everyone in the building knows you want more. I've seen the way you look around the Oval."

"Ainsley, that's not…"

"Yes it is. Deep down, that's what you want. As much as I hate to admit it, you'd be good."

"Okay, you caught me. It's just it seems so impossible now. I'm not aligning myself right."

"Sam, you are the Deputy Communications Director for the most powerful man in the world. You've got your foot in more doors than most people could ever hope for. I think you're setting yourself up very well. Next thing you need to do is get your name on a ballot somewhere."

Sam turned his head out towards the ocean again.

"Thornton Wilde."

"Who's that?"

"California 47th. He just died of a heart attack this week."

She nodded in understanding.

"So there will be a special election."

Ainsley looked at him with a glimmer in her eyes. He just shook his head.

"It's not right. No Democrat will ever do well in the 47th."

"True."

"I can't just leave."

"Why not?"

"You ask too many questions."

"I'm inquisitive. Can't help it."

"Inquisitive, nosy, what's the difference?"

"Very funny."

"Listen, don't tell anyone I told you all that."

"My lips are sealed."

Sam almost said, "That's unfortunate," but he stopped himself just before it slipped out. Instead he just looked at her with a pleasant and contented smile on his face. She chewed the last bit of her ice cream cone as her golden colored hair blew elegantly around her face. She almost took his breath away at that moment.

"Ready to head back?"

"Yeah."

They turned back towards the inn, and Sam's hand fell lightly on the small of her back. But there was no awkwardness with this touch. It felt very natural…to both of them.

After a few moments of walking in silence, Ainsley spoke up.

"So…you know this town is full of ghost stories. The whole coast is. Blackbeard spent a good bit of time around here, at least that's how the legend goes."

"You never did well playing the quiet game in elementary school did you?"

She giggled and walked unnoticeably closer to him.

"I should be insulted, but you're right. I saw it as a conspiracy that my teachers played a major role in developing. Nothing drives me crazier than sitting in a quiet place."

He laughed out loud at her and subtly pulled her even closer.

But she noticed anyway.

By the time they got back to the inn, they were talking of futile things like football and the weather, but neither of them cared. They weren't really paying attention to the conversation. They just liked where they were. The closeness was comfortable and they weren't used to that.

They waved to Eli, who was sitting in the little den area next to the staircase, when they came in. The elderly man waved and gave them a giant smile and watched them descend the staircase. Then he headed to the phone.

* * *

"Sir…Am I interrupting anything? Charlie wasn't in his office."

"No, come on in Josh. I'm just looking over this NATO information. Did we hear…"

"Yes, Sir. Donna's friend's uncle just called. Seems that everything is going better than we expected. They went out and enjoyed themselves this evening and apparently were all smiles just a few minutes ago."

"With those two, you never know how long that might last."

Both chuckled, knowing that this was bound to be a combustible relationship.

"That's true, Sir. Thank you for your help."

"You couldn't have done it without me."

"Of course not."

"You'll update me tomorrow?"

"First thing, Mr. President."

"Thanks, Josh."

"Good night, Sir."

* * *

"I need a nice hot bubble bath."

Ainsley's words got Sam's attention. He tried to keep his thoughts respectable, but it wasn't easy.

"Uh…what?"

"I said I'm going to take a bath."

With that, she grinned at him, not in a seductive way, but it accomplished the same goal. She shut the door to her room and heard it lock. The tub began to run a few minutes later, and he was left to stare out the window to the ocean below.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there when she reemerged from her room, clad in purple fleece pajama bottoms and a white tank top. Her slightly damp hair was piled on top her head and not an ounce of makeup covered her face, revealing light freckles splayed across her nose and cheeks.

"You're still up?"

"Yeah. I started thinking about…stuff."

"About running?"

"Ainsley. I wasn't…Can we just drop that subject."

"Sorry." She looked slightly insulted. She plopped casually on the opposite side of the window seat from Sam. She sat cross-legged beside his feet.

"I meant that I just want to stop thinking about that for a while. My mind can only take so much."

"Typically, that would call for a Democrat joke, but since you're obviously distracted, I'll let it slide."

"Thank you."

"Your welcome."

"I can see why you like this part of the country so much." Sam said randomly after a few minutes.

"Eh, its home."

"No, seriously. You seem different here than you do back in DC. We brought most of the West Wing down here and they barely survived. You instantly adapt. I think you welcome the mosquitoes."

Ainsley laughed briefly.

"Didn't you go to Duke?"

"Yeah, I spent three and a half years there, but that was in Durham, plus, I had my nose in law books the whole time. You do remember law school, right?"

"Yeah. I spent those years in Massachusetts. I didn't want to leave my apartment. Too cold."

"And too liberal."

"Yeah, that too. Why did you choose Duke?"

"A girl."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We met at Princeton. She was from the area and she came home a year before we graduated. It was pretty serious; at least that's what I thought. So I choose a law school close to her. I got down here after not having told her I was coming. I wanted to surprise her. I don't know what I was thinking. Anyway, long story short, she was dating another guy."

"Ouch. Then why did you stay?"

"No clue. It was just too much trouble to change. Plus, Duke has a great law program."

"I know. I almost went there myself."

"Yeah?"

"But I spent the summer before back at home and remembered why I moved to Massachusetts to begin with. I love my family, but Durham is way too close to Raleigh."

"So we would have been at law school together."

"Well, you would have been quite a few years ahead of me."

"What are you saying?" Sam asked with a hand over his heart in feigned offense.

"I'm saying that you are an old man."

"Thanks a lot."

"Nothing wrong with old men."

The companionable silence enveloped them again, and both were searching desperately for something to say.

"Sam?" Ainsley finally interjected.

"Huh?"

"What did you mean earlier…when you said I seemed different down here?"

"Oh…uh, I just meant that you seem more…I don't know…relaxed, maybe. You're not in professional mode. You seem very much at home and comfortable. I like it. You should act more like that back in DC."

"I am more relaxed here. But I can't be like that back in the city."

"Why not?"

"Because, Sam. I have to stay in professional mode at work because if I don't I'm looked at like Political Operative Barbie. You don't know what its like. All people see is my blonde hair and blue eyes."

Sensing through her slightly higher, tenser voice that he had insulted her, he backpedaled. He leaned toward her, making sure that he got her attention. He chose his words and his tone carefully.

"I'm not saying don't be professional, Ainsley. I'm saying you could loosen up some. I like what I've seen this weekend. I've…I've liked it a lot." They had made eye contact, and neither was breaking it. "You should be like this more often. I know that I'd like to see it a lot more often. I like this Ainsley…I more than like it."

"Sam…" She sighed deeply, composing herself and willing the sudden color in her face away. "Sam…are you still talking about work?"

"I have no idea."

With that he placed a gentle hand on her cheek and kissed her lips softly. She responded in kind.


End file.
